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Modern English
Peace to this meeting, wherefore we are met! Unto our brother France, and to our sister, Health and fair time of day; joy and good wishes To our most fair and princely cousin Katharine; And, as a branch and member of this royalty, By whom this great assembly is contrived, We do salute you, Duke of Burgundy; And, princes French, and peers, health to you all!
Peace to this meeting, why are we gathered here? To our brother France, and to our sister, Wishing health and a good day; joy and good wishes To our most beautiful and noble cousin Katharine; And, as part of this royalty, Through whom this great gathering is arranged, We greet you, Duke of Burgundy; And, French princes and peers, health to you all!
Right joyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother England; fairly met: So are you, princes English, every one.
We are very happy to see your face, Most worthy brother England; glad to meet you: And so are you, English princes, every one.
So happy be the issue, brother England, Of this good day and of this gracious meeting, As we are now glad to behold your eyes; Your eyes, which hitherto have borne in them Against the French, that met them in their bent, The fatal balls of murdering basilisks: The venom of such looks, we fairly hope, Have lost their quality, and that this day Shall change all griefs and quarrels into love.
May the outcome be as happy, brother England, As this good day and this joyful meeting, As we are now happy to see your faces; Your faces, which before showed only Hostility towards the French, who met your gaze, The deadly glances of venomous looks: We hope that these looks have lost their power, And that today Will turn all sorrow and anger into love.
To cry amen to that, thus we appear.
To agree with that, here we are.
You English princes all, I do salute you.
I greet all you English princes.
My duty to you both, on equal love, Great Kings of France and England! That I have labour’d, With all my wits, my pains and strong endeavours, To bring your most imperial majesties Unto this bar and royal interview, Your mightiness on both parts best can witness. Since then my office hath so far prevail’d That, face to face and royal eye to eye, You have congreeted, let it not disgrace me, If I demand, before this royal view, What rub or what impediment there is, Why that the naked, poor and mangled Peace, Dear nurse of arts and joyful births, Should not in this best garden of the world Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage? Alas, she hath from France too long been chased, And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps, Corrupting in its own fertility. Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, Unpruned dies; her hedges even-pleach’d, Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, Put forth disorder’d twigs; her fallow leas The darnel, hemlock and rank fumitory Doth root upon, while that the coulter rusts That should deracinate such savagery; The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness and nothing teems But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility. And as our vineyards, fallows, meads and hedges, Defective in their natures, grow to wildness, Even so our houses and ourselves and children Have lost, or do not learn for want of time, The sciences that should become our country; But grow like savages,--as soldiers will That nothing do but meditate on blood,-- To swearing and stern looks, diffused attire And every thing that seems unnatural. Which to reduce into our former favour You are assembled: and my speech entreats That I may know the let, why gentle Peace Should not expel these inconveniences And bless us with her former qualities.
My duty to you both, with equal love, Great Kings of France and England! I’ve worked hard, With all my wits, my efforts, and strong dedication, To bring your royal majesties To this meeting and royal conversation, You both can best confirm my success. Since my efforts have so far succeeded, And now, face to face and eye to eye, You’ve greeted each other, don’t let me be ashamed If I ask, before this royal audience, What obstacle or problem there is, That prevents the naked, poor, and wounded Peace, Beloved caretaker of arts and happy beginnings, Shouldn’t our fertile France, this best garden in the world, Show her beautiful face here? Alas, she’s been chased away from France for too long, And all her farming lies in piles, Rotting in its own productivity. Her vine, which once cheered the heart, Untended, dies; her hedges, neatly trimmed, Like prisoners whose hair grows wild, Shoot out disordered twigs; her fallow fields Are taken over by weeds like darnel, hemlock, and strong-smelling fumitory, While the plow rusts, That should root out such wildness; The meadow that once grew sweetly with Cowslips, burnet, and green clover, Is now unchecked, growing wild and rank, Becoming lazy and unproductive, Only growing hateful weeds like docks, thistles, and burs, Losing both beauty and usefulness. And just as our vineyards, fields, meadows, and hedges, Become wild due to neglect, So too have our homes, ourselves, and our children Lost, or haven’t learned due to lack of time, The skills that should benefit our country; Instead, we grow like savages,--just like soldiers Who do nothing but think about bloodshed,-- Swearing, grim expressions, disheveled clothes, And everything that seems unnatural. To fix all this and restore things to their former state, You’ve gathered here; and my speech asks That I may know the reason why gentle Peace Should not remove these troubles And bless us with her old qualities.
If, Duke of Burgundy, you would the peace, Whose want gives growth to the imperfections Which you have cited, you must buy that peace With full accord to all our just demands; Whose tenors and particular effects You have enscheduled briefly in your hands.
If, Duke of Burgundy, you want peace, Which is the cause of the imperfections You’ve mentioned, you must buy that peace By agreeing to all our just demands; Which you have briefly written down in your hands.
The king hath heard them; to the which as yet There is no answer made.
The king has heard them; but there’s been no answer yet.
Well then the peace, Which you before so urged, lies in his answer.
Well then, the peace, Which you pressed for earlier, depends on his answer.
I have but with a cursorary eye O’erglanced the articles: pleaseth your grace To appoint some of your council presently To sit with us once more, with better heed To re-survey them, we will suddenly Pass our accept and peremptory answer.
I’ve only glanced briefly at the documents: Does it please your grace To appoint some of your council right now To sit with us once more, and look at them carefully? We’ll give our final, firm answer soon.
Brother, we shall. Go, uncle Exeter, And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloucester, Warwick and Huntingdon, go with the king; And take with you free power to ratify, Augment, or alter, as your wisdoms best Shall see advantageable for our dignity, Any thing in or out of our demands, And we’ll consign thereto. Will you, fair sister, Go with the princes, or stay here with us?
Brother, we shall. Go, uncle Exeter, And brother Clarence, and you, brother Gloucester, Warwick and Huntingdon, go with the king; And take with you full authority to approve, Add to, or change, anything as you see fit For our dignity, Whether it’s part of our demands or not, And we’ll approve it. Will you, fair sister, Go with the princes, or stay here with us?
Our gracious brother, I will go with them: Haply a woman’s voice may do some good, When articles too nicely urged be stood on.
Our gracious brother, I will go with them: Perhaps a woman’s voice can help, When demands are too strictly enforced.
Yet leave our cousin Katharine here with us: She is our capital demand, comprised Within the fore-rank of our articles.
But leave our cousin Katharine here with us: She is our main request, At the top of our list of demands.
She hath good leave.
She has permission.
Fair Katharine, and most fair, Will you vouchsafe to teach a soldier terms Such as will enter at a lady’s ear And plead his love-suit to her gentle heart?
Fair Katharine, and most fair, Will you deign to teach a soldier words That will enter a lady’s ear And persuade her heart to love him?
Your majesty shall mock at me; I cannot speak your England.
Your majesty will make fun of me; I can’t speak your English.
O fair Katharine, if you will love me soundly with your French heart, I will be glad to hear you confess it brokenly with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?
Oh, beautiful Katharine, if you will love me truly with your French heart, I will be happy to hear you say it, even if it’s brokenly, with your English tongue. Do you like me, Kate?
Pardonnez-moi, I cannot tell vat is ’like me.’
Pardon me, I don’t understand what "like me" means.
An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.
An angel is like you, Kate, and you are like an angel.
Que dit-il? que je suis semblable a les anges?
What does he say? That I am like the angels?
Oui, vraiment, sauf votre grace, ainsi dit-il.
Yes, truly, except for your grace, that’s what he said.
I said so, dear Katharine; and I must not blush to affirm it.
I said so, dear Katharine; and I shouldn’t be ashamed to confirm it.
O bon Dieu! les langues des hommes sont pleines de tromperies.
Oh, good God! the languages of men are full of trickery.
What says she, fair one? that the tongues of men are full of deceits?
What does she say, fair one? That the tongues of men are full of deceit?
Oui, dat de tongues of de mans is be full of deceits: dat is de princess.
Yes, that the tongues of men are full of deceit: that’s what the princess says.
The princess is the better Englishwoman. I’ faith, Kate, my wooing is fit for thy understanding: I am glad thou canst speak no better English; for, if thou couldst, thou wouldst find me such a plain king that thou wouldst think I had sold my farm to buy my crown. I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say ’I love you:’ then if you urge me farther than to say ’do you in faith?’ I wear out my suit. Give me your answer; i’ faith, do: and so clap hands and a bargain: how say you, lady?
The princess speaks better English. Truly, Kate, my way of wooing is right for you to understand: I’m glad you can’t speak better English, because if you could, you would think me such a simple king that you’d think I had sold my farm to buy my crown. I don’t know any way to be subtle in love, except to directly say "I love you": then, if you press me to say more, asking "do you really?" I’d wear out my words. Give me your answer; truly, do: and then we’ll shake hands and make a deal: how do you say, lady?
Sauf votre honneur, me understand vell.
With all due respect, I understand well.
Marry, if you would put me to verses or to dance for your sake, Kate, why you undid me: for the one, I have neither words nor measure, and for the other, I have no strength in measure, yet a reasonable measure in strength. If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by vaulting into my saddle with my armour on my back, under the correction of bragging be it spoken. I should quickly leap into a wife. Or if I might buffet for my love, or bound my horse for her favours, I could lay on like a butcher and sit like a jack-an-apes, never off. But, before God, Kate, I cannot look greenly nor gasp out my eloquence, nor I have no cunning in protestation; only downright oaths, which I never use till urged, nor never break for urging. If thou canst love a fellow of this temper, Kate, whose face is not worth sun-burning, that never looks in his glass for love of any thing he sees there, let thine eye be thy cook. I speak to thee plain soldier: If thou canst love me for this, take me: if not, to say to thee that I shall die, is true; but for thy love, by the Lord, no; yet I love thee too. And while thou livest, dear Kate, take a fellow of plain and uncoined constancy; for he perforce must do thee right, because he hath not the gift to woo in other places: for these fellows of infinite tongue, that can rhyme themselves into ladies’ favours, they do always reason themselves out again. What! a speaker is but a prater; a rhyme is but a ballad. A good leg will fall; a straight back will stoop; a black beard will turn white; a curled pate will grow bald; a fair face will wither; a full eye will wax hollow: but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon; for it shines bright and never changes, but keeps his course truly. If thou would have such a one, take me; and take me, take a soldier; take a soldier, take a king. And what sayest thou then to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee.
Well, if you want me to write poems or dance for your sake, Kate, you’d be undoing me: for one thing, I have neither the words nor the rhythm, and for the other, I don’t have the energy for dancing, though I do have a fair amount of strength. If I could win a lady at leap-frog, or by jumping onto my horse with my armor on my back, and speaking under the correction of boasting, I’d quickly win a wife. Or if I could fight for her love, or jump my horse to win her favor, I could strike like a butcher and sit like a monkey, never getting up. But, before God, Kate, I can’t make myself look charming or speak eloquently, nor do I have any skill in making grand declarations; just simple oaths, which I only use when pressed, and never break even when pressed. If you can love a man like this, Kate, whose face isn’t worth
Is it possible dat I sould love de enemy of France?
Could it be possible for me to love the enemy of France?
No; it is not possible you should love the enemy of France, Kate: but, in loving me, you should love the friend of France; for I love France so well that I will not part with a village of it; I will have it all mine: and, Kate, when France is mine and I am yours, then yours is France and you are mine.
No, it isn’t possible for you to love the enemy of France, Kate. But by loving me, you’ll love France’s friend. I love France so much that I won’t give up even a single village of it; I’ll make it all mine. And, Kate, when France is mine and I’m yours, then France will be yours, and you’ll be mine.
I cannot tell vat is dat.
I don’t understand what that means.
No, Kate? I will tell thee in French; which I am sure will hang upon my tongue like a new-married wife about her husband’s neck, hardly to be shook off. Je quand sur le possession de France, et quand vous avez le possession de moi,--let me see, what then? Saint Denis be my speed!--donc votre est France et vous etes mienne. It is as easy for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom as to speak so much more French: I shall never move thee in French, unless it be to laugh at me.
No, Kate? I’ll explain it in French, though I’m sure it will sound awkward on my tongue, like a newly married wife clinging to her husband’s neck, hard to shake off. Je quand sur le possession de France, et quand vous avez le possession de moi--let me think, what then? Saint Denis help me!--donc votre est France et vous etes mienne. It’s as easy for me, Kate, to conquer the kingdom as it is to speak more French. But I’ll never win you over in French, unless it’s to make you laugh at me.
Sauf votre honneur, le Francois que vous parlez, il est meilleur que l’Anglois lequel je parle.
Excuse me, your honor, but the French you speak is better than the English I speak.
No, faith, is’t not, Kate: but thy speaking of my tongue, and I thine, most truly-falsely, must needs be granted to be much at one. But, Kate, dost thou understand thus much English, canst thou love me?
No, truly, it’s not, Kate. But my attempt to speak your language and yours to speak mine are equally flawed. Still, Kate, do you understand enough English to answer this: can you love me?
I cannot tell.
I cannot tell.
Can any of your neighbours tell, Kate? I’ll ask them. Come, I know thou lovest me: and at night, when you come into your closet, you’ll question this gentlewoman about me; and I know, Kate, you will to her dispraise those parts in me that you love with your heart: but, good Kate, mock me mercifully; the rather, gentle princess, because I love thee cruelly. If ever thou beest mine, Kate, as I have a saving faith within me tells me thou shalt, I get thee with scambling, and thou must therefore needs prove a good soldier-breeder: shall not thou and I, between Saint Denis and Saint George, compound a boy, half French, half English, that shall go to Constantinople and take the Turk by the beard? shall we not? what sayest thou, my fair flower-de-luce?
Can any of your neighbors tell me, Kate? I’ll ask them. Come on, I know you love me. At night, when you’re alone in your room, you’ll ask this lady here about me, and I know, Kate, you’ll criticize the things about me that you actually love deep down. But, dear Kate, tease me kindly; especially because I love you so fiercely. If you ever become mine, Kate—and I truly believe you will—I’ll win you in a scramble, so you’ll surely make a fine mother of brave soldiers. Don’t you think, between Saint Denis and Saint George, we could have a son, half French and half English, who would march to Constantinople and grab the Turk by the beard? Won’t we? What do you say, my lovely flower-de-luce?
I do not know dat
I do not know dat
No; ’tis hereafter to know, but now to promise: do but now promise, Kate, you will endeavour for your French part of such a boy; and for my English moiety take the word of a king and a bachelor. How answer you, la plus belle Katharine du monde, mon tres cher et devin deesse?
No, that’s for the future to know, but for now, let’s promise: just promise me, Kate, that you’ll try to provide your French share of such a boy; and for my English part, take the word of a king and a bachelor. What do you say, the most beautiful Katharine in the world, my very dear and divine goddess?
Your majestee ave fausse French enough to deceive de most sage demoiselle dat is en France.
Your majesty speaks bad French well enough to fool the wisest lady in France.
Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honour, in true English, I love thee, Kate: by which honour I dare not swear thou lovest me; yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my visage. Now, beshrew my father’s ambition! he was thinking of civil wars when he got me: therefore was I created with a stubborn outside, with an aspect of iron, that, when I come to woo ladies, I fright them. But, in faith, Kate, the elder I wax, the better I shall appear: my comfort is, that old age, that ill layer up of beauty, can do no more, spoil upon my face: thou hast me, if thou hast me, at the worst; and thou shalt wear me, if thou wear me, better and better: and therefore tell me, most fair Katharine, will you have me? Put off your maiden blushes; avouch the thoughts of your heart with the looks of an empress; take me by the hand, and say ’Harry of England I am thine:’ which word thou shalt no sooner bless mine ear withal, but I will tell thee aloud ’England is thine, Ireland is thine, France is thine, and Harry Plantagenet is thine;’ who though I speak it before his face, if he be not fellow with the best king, thou shalt find the best king of good fellows. Come, your answer in broken music; for thy voice is music and thy English broken; therefore, queen of all, Katharine, break thy mind to me in broken English; wilt thou have me?
Now, shame on my poor French! By my honor, in true English, I love you, Kate. And by that honor, I can’t swear that you love me, but my heart is starting to believe that you do, despite the rough and unappealing look of my face. Now, curse my father’s ambition! He was thinking of civil wars when he had me: that’s why I was born with a tough exterior and a hard face, so that when I try to woo ladies, I scare them. But, honestly, Kate, the older I get, the better I’ll look. My comfort is that age, the enemy of beauty, won’t have much more to spoil on my face. You have me, if you want me, at my worst; and you’ll have me, if you keep me, getting better and better. So, tell me, most beautiful Katharine, will you have me? Let go of your maiden shyness, show me the thoughts of your heart with the gaze of an empress; take my hand and say ‘Harry of England, I am yours.’ As soon as you say those words, I will tell you aloud, ‘England is yours, Ireland is yours, France is yours, and Harry Plantagenet is yours.’ Even though I say this in front of his face, if he is not worthy of being the best king, you will find the best king among good men. Come, answer me in broken music; for your voice is music, and your English is broken; so, queen of all, Katharine, speak your heart to me in broken English. Will you have me?
Dat is as it sall please de roi mon pere.
That is as it shall please the King, my father.
Nay, it will please him well, Kate it shall please him, Kate.
Nay, it will please him well, Kate; it shall please him, Kate.
Den it sall also content me.
Then it shall also content me.
Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen.
Upon that I kiss your hand, and I call you my queen.
Laissez, mon seigneur, laissez, laissez: ma foi, je ne veux point que vous abaissiez votre grandeur en baisant la main d’une de votre seigeurie indigne serviteur; excusez-moi, je vous supplie, mon tres-puissant seigneur.
Leave, my lord, leave, leave: by my faith, I do not wish that you abase your greatness in kissing the hand of one of your lowly and unworthy servants; excuse me, I beg you, my most powerful lord.
Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
Then I will kiss your lips, Kate.
Les dames et demoiselles pour etre baisees devant leur noces, il n’est pas la coutume de France.
It is not the custom for ladies and maidens to be kissed before their marriage in France.
Madam my interpreter, what says she?
Madam, my interpreter, what does she say?
Dat it is not be de fashion pour les ladies of France,--I cannot tell vat is baiser en Anglish.
That it is not the fashion for the ladies of France -- I cannot tell what "kiss" means in English.
To kiss.
To kiss.
Your majesty entendre bettre que moi.
Your majesty understands better than I.
It is not a fashion for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, would she say?
It is not the custom for the maids in France to kiss before they are married, is that what she says?
Oui, vraiment.
Yes, truly.
O Kate, nice customs curtsy to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the weak list of a country’s fashion: we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouth of all find-faults; as I will do yours, for upholding the nice fashion of your country in denying me a kiss: therefore, patiently and yielding.
Oh, Kate, nice customs bow to great kings. Dear Kate, you and I cannot be confined within the narrow rules of a country’s fashion: we are the makers of manners, Kate; and the liberty that follows our places stops the mouths of all fault-finders; as I will do yours, for upholding the ridiculous fashion of your country in denying me a kiss: therefore, be patient and yielding.
You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.
You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs. Here comes your father.
God save your majesty! my royal cousin, teach you our princess English?
God save your majesty! My royal cousin, will you teach your princess English?
I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I love her; and that is good English.
I would have her learn, my fair cousin, how perfectly I love her; and that is good English.
Is she not apt?
Is she not apt?
Our tongue is rough, coz, and my condition is not smooth; so that, having neither the voice nor the heart of flattery about me, I cannot so conjure up the spirit of love in her, that he will appear in his true likeness.
Our tongue is rough, cousin, and my disposition is not smooth; so, having neither the voice nor the heart for flattery about me, I cannot conjure up the spirit of love in her, that he will appear in his true likeness.
Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I answer you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle; if conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you blame her then, being a maid yet rosed over with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign to.
Pardon the frankness of my mirth, if I answer you for that. If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle; and if you conjure up love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you blame her then, being a maiden yet veiled with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she denies the appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self? It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consent to.
Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and enforces.
Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and compels.
They are then excused, my lord, when they see not what they do.
They are then excused, my lord, when they see not what they do.
Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to consent winking.
Then, good my lord, teach your cousin to consent while winking.
I will wink on her to consent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning: for maids, well summered and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes; and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on.
I will wink to her to consent, my lord, if you will teach her to know my meaning: for maids, well nurtured and carefully kept, are like flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes; and then they will endure handling, which before would not endure looking at.
This moral ties me over to time and a hot summer; and so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, in the latter end and she must be blind too.
This moral ties me over to time and a hot summer; and so I shall catch the fly, your cousin, in the latter end and she must be blind too.
As love is, my lord, before it loves.
As love is, my lord, before it loves.
It is so: and you may, some of you, thank love for my blindness, who cannot see many a fair French city for one fair French maid that stands in my way.
It is so: and some of you may thank love for my blindness, for I cannot see many a fair French city for one fair French maid that stands in my way.
Yes, my lord, you see them perspectively, the cities turned into a maid; for they are all girdled with maiden walls that war hath never entered.
Yes, my lord, you see them in a distorted way, the cities turned into a maid; for they are all surrounded with maiden walls that war has never entered.
Shall Kate be my wife?
Shall Kate be my wife?
So please you.
So please you.
I am content; so the maiden cities you talk of may wait on her: so the maid that stood in the way for my wish shall show me the way to my will.
I am content; and so the maiden cities you talk of may wait on her: so the maid that stood in the way for my wish shall show me the way to my will.
We have consented to all terms of reason.
We have consented to all terms of reason.
Is’t so, my lords of England?
Is it so, my lords of England?
The king hath granted every article: His daughter first, and then in sequel all, According to their firm proposed natures.
The king has granted every article: His daughter first, and then in sequence all, According to their firm proposed natures.
Only he hath not yet subscribed this: Where your majesty demands, that the King of France, having any occasion to write for matter of grant, shall name your highness in this form and with this addition in French, Notre trescher fils Henri, Roi d’Angleterre, Heritier de France; and thus in Latin, Praeclarissimus filius noster Henricus, Rex Angliae, et Haeres Franciae.
Only he has not yet signed this: Where your majesty demands that the King of France, if he writes for any matter of grant, shall name your highness in this form and with this addition in French: Notre trescher fils Henri, Roi d’Angleterre. And that the French shall hereafter call your Highness, Prince Henry.
Nor this I have not, brother, so denied, But your request shall make me let it pass.
I have not denied this, brother, but your request will make me allow it.
I pray you then, in love and dear alliance, Let that one article rank with the rest; And thereupon give me your daughter.
It is so, indeed, and it is this I know I shall soon have.
Take her, fair son, and from her blood raise up Issue to me; that the contending kingdoms Of France and England, whose very shores look pale With envy of each other’s happiness, May cease their hatred, and this dear conjunction Plant neighbourhood and Christian-like accord In their sweet bosoms, that never war advance His bleeding sword ’twixt England and fair France.
I will call the King of England thus: your son shall be styled as he was pleased. May I further comfort you.
Amen!
Then we are content.
Now, welcome, Kate: and bear me witness all, That here I kiss her as my sovereign queen.
Now, welcome, Kate: and let everyone here witness, That I kiss her as my queen.
God, the best maker of all marriages, Combine your hearts in one, your realms in one! As man and wife, being two, are one in love, So be there ’twixt your kingdoms such a spousal, That never may ill office, or fell jealousy, Which troubles oft the bed of blessed marriage, Thrust in between the paction of these kingdoms, To make divorce of their incorporate league; That English may as French, French Englishmen, Receive each other. God speak this Amen!
God, the best creator of all marriages, Unite your hearts as one, and your lands as one! Just as a husband and wife, though two, are one in love, May your kingdoms also be united in such a bond, That no bad actions or jealousy, Which often trouble a happy marriage, May come between the union of your kingdoms, And cause a split in their joined alliance; So that the English may be as the French, and the French as the English, Welcoming each other. May God make this true!
Amen!
Amen!
Prepare we for our marriage--on which day, My Lord of Burgundy, we’ll take your oath, And all the peers’, for surety of our leagues. Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me; And may our oaths well kept and prosperous be!
Let’s get ready for our wedding -- on that day, My Lord of Burgundy, we will take your oath, And all the noblemen’s oaths, to ensure the safety of our alliances. Then I will swear to Kate, and you will swear to me; And may our oaths be kept and lead to success!
Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen, Our bending author hath pursued the story, In little room confining mighty men, Mangling by starts the full course of their glory. Small time, but in that small most greatly lived This star of England: Fortune made his sword; By which the world’s best garden be achieved, And of it left his son imperial lord. Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown’d King Of France and England, did this king succeed; Whose state so many had the managing, That they lost France and made his England bleed: Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake, In your fair minds let this acceptance take.
Up until now, with a rough and imperfect pen, Our author has told the story, In a short time, limiting great men, Tracing the glory of their lives in fragments. Though it was a short time, in that time he lived greatly, This shining star of England: Fortune gave him a sword; With which he achieved the world’s greatest lands, And left his son to rule as king. Henry the Sixth, crowned as King of France and England as a child, Succeeded this king; Many people managed his kingdom, But they lost France and caused England to suffer: This is a story often shown on our stage; and for their sake, Let your minds accept this conclusion.